


As We Ran

by sarahgalaxy



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aliens, Fluff, M/M, Multi, POV: Jim Kirk, Pining, Shore Leave, Space family, Work In Progress, fuckgin jimothy will make an appearance at some point i promise, jimothy, spirk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-12 05:53:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9058405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahgalaxy/pseuds/sarahgalaxy
Summary: Jim falls in love and the crew has to deal. Spock is oblivious, of course. Meanwhile, McCoy's lifespan becomes exponentially shorter thanks to Jim.





	1. Chapter 1

“Jim, if you don’t stop staring I’m gonna hypo your ass.”

Jim glanced at McCoy’s pockets, checking for the rectangular blue syringes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would, and you know that. Now for God’s sake, man, stop it. You look paranoid or something.” At this, McCoy threw Jim a warning glance, but Jim’s gaze had already wandered back to Uhura, who was sitting next to Scotty. Their heads were bent deep in conversation, and they both wore faint smiles on their faces.

Jim took a bite from his mashed potatoes. “How long has this been going on?”

Bones shrugged. “I’d say two, maybe three weeks. Oh, get that look off your face. We both know you’re the most oblivious idiot on the ship.” Jim glared at McCoy, then at the table, trying to recall the past few months. “That was Risa Prime, huh? With the glow bugs?” The Risans, Jim remembered, were a small population that had recently allied themselves with the Federation. They were about five feet tall and shaped like woodlice, except instead of legs, they had soft, undulating tentacles. 

“That was the one where Uhura…?” Jim began, and Bones nodded in confirmation, face contorted in a grimace.

“Oh, God,” Jim groaned, sliding his plate to the middle of the table.

The Risan form of greeting consisted of wrapping their tentacles around one another. Unfortunately for Uhura, the first and only recipient of this greeting, the tentacles were coated in a substance corrosive to human skin. Scotty had been quick enough to beam Uhura directly to medbay, and after hours of profuse apologies on the part of the Risans, Jim had successfully recruited a Federation ally. Uhura, thankfully, had regained use of her arm a few days later.

“I can’t believe this,” Jim muttered. “My best communications officer is with Scotty? I was sure he and Keenser had a thing going.”

Bones scraped the last of his meal from his plate. “What did you want me to do? All I can say is, it’s a real improvement from that hobgoblin.”

Jim narrowed his eyes. “Bones, are you implying that Uhura…?” He shook his head. Uhura would never cheat on Spock, or anyone for that matter. She just wasn’t that type of person.

Bones sighed loudly and ran a hand over his face. “No, it was mutual,” he said. “And, so I hear, at least a month before the little incident. Really, Jim, you of all people - aren't you supposed to know these things?"

Jim rolled his eyes. “I’m not the one acting like a gossipy twelve year old. I’m the captain, what do you expect me to do? Also, Spock’s a block of ice. Like I was supposed to know.” Although, for the record, Jim couldn’t believe Spock hadn’t told him. They told each other everything. Or at least, Jim told Spock everything. A knot of guilt formed in Jim's stomach. He was certain they'd built a tentative trust for each other in the past year—but who knew with Vulcans?

“Not my fault this was common knowledge,” Bones continued, and stabbed the asparagus on Jim’s plate. “Plus, it's Spock. I would've expected y'all to be braiding each other's hair by now. Anyway, I’m supposed to take over for M’Benga in ten minutes. I’ll see you in a bit. And _don’t_ interrupt the happy couple.”  
-  
Jim had just gotten off duty and was in his room when he heard a buzz at his door. It was most likely Spock – Bones was still in medbay, and Uhura was probably with Scotty. Now that was a pair Jim could not wrap his mind around.

“Come in!” Jim called, and swiveled around in his chair.

“Mr. Spock, what can I do for you? Wait, shut up - what the hell is that?”

Spock looked down at the gaping hole on the right sleeve of his uniform, as though noticing it for the first time. “I was experimenting with hydrogen. There was a slight error in Ensign Liang’s calculations. The dilution of their –”

“But are you hurt?”

“Certainly not, Captain.”

Jim eyed the damage suspiciously. More than once, Spock had been hurt or in severe pain and not let anyone know until either Uhura noticed it or he collapsed. 

“Are you telling me the truth?”

“Vulcans –”

“—don’t lie, yeah, yeah. So what’s up?” Jim got up and poured himself a mug of coffee. “Want some?” He asked, waving his mug at Spock.

“No.” Spock sat down on Jim’s recently vacated chair. “I came to speak to you about Nyota.”

Oh. _Oh_.

“Spock, if you need to talk to me, uh, I’m all ears.” Not that Jim had high hopes for Spock discussing his love life. Spock would probably spontaneously combust before getting emotional over that.

“Pardon me for asking, but what do you mean by all ears?”

Jim’s heart flipped a little. He loved it when Spock was like this, when he asked these questions that, albeit vaguely, gave off a vibe of uniquely human curiousity. They were the kind of questions that said, “I have a vague notion as to the meaning of your useless idiom, but humans are irrational creatures and I require some sort of clarification.”

Jim grinned. “Uh, it means that I’m completely, totally listening to what you’ve got to say.” He sat down crisscross on his bed and rubbed his hands together. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Spock stood up and gestured to Jim’s bed. “May I sit?” Jim nodded, and Spock folded himself onto the covers. It felt a bit like those times, years ago, when Jim would crawl into his brother’s bed and they’d pull blankets over their heads and talk until the sun creeped over the horizon. Unfortunately, Jim didn’t think Spock would appreciate getting the covers pulled over his head.

“Captain—”

“Ugh, we’re off-duty. Jim.”

“Jim,” Spock amended. He paused again and Jim fought the urge to roll his eyes. What was it with Vulcans and overthinking literally everything?

"I should have told you about Nyota and me. I have been informed by Dr. McCoy that it is common in human friendships to discuss and offer insight into personal situations. I did not tell you that Nyota and I were no longer seeing each other. However, seeing that we hold a high amount of trust for each other, I believe it would have been beneficial had I spoken to you about it.”

“Is that your weird way of telling me we’re friends?” Jim asked. He grabbed one of his pillows, hugged it to his stomach, and pretended it was Spock.

“Did I not convey to you that were friends?”

Jim laughed. “I dunno. I guess? I mean, you never really talk to me.”

That was probably Jim's fault, though. God, did he ever stop talking? Spock probably counted the seconds whenever Jim talked.

A crease appeared between Spock’s eyebrows, the only indication of confusion on his face. “We have saved each other’s lives on multiple occasions. Is that not an indication of comradery?”

“Well yeah, ’course it is. Much more than is normal. But with humans, you don’t just do big things like that. You do little things. Y’know, have a drink, catch a meal. Annoy them, hang out with them. That’s what Bones and I do.”

“Is chess not a friendly activity?”

“Well yeah, but, if we’re gonna get to know each other we’ve gotta do more together. Why don’t we eat lunch together? We haven't done that before.”

“Our meal breaks do not follow the same schedule.”

Jim sighed. “See, Spock, this is why we can’t be friends. It's a tragedy, really. Very Romeo and Juliet.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow, and Jim made a mental note to lend Spock some of his Shakespeare collection. Although the only insight Spock would probably end up having is that it was illogical, as most Terran literature was.

Then Jim brightened. “But we do have a shore leave scheduled in two weeks. Whaddaya say, Spock? You wanna go?" Jim grinned at the frown that graced his friend's face. "Actually, just kidding, I’m making you go on shore leave, in the name of friendship. Who knows, maybe I’ll know your favorite color by the end of the trip.” Jim fluffed his pillow and stood.

“Having a favorite color is illogical,” Spock replied, moving towards the door.

Jim’s chest got that funny feeling again and he couldn't fight the giant grin that was so wide it made his face hurt. As Spock disappeared around the corridor he yelled, “I’d bet fifty credits you've got one!"


	2. Chapter 2

Uhura was one of Jim’s best friends and had been for almost two years. It hadn’t started out so well—Jim knew Uhura had hated him during his first few weeks on the Enterprise, though not without good reason. But their first friendly conversation happened shortly after Nero’s defeat. It had gone something like this:

_“Wow, you’re looking…angry.”_

_“Yeah, it’s cause I am,” Uhura had snapped._

_“Is it Spock?”_

_“Of course it’s Spock, asshole! Sorry.”_

Jim would never admit this to Spock, but the reason Uhura and Jim were so close was because of him. Now Jim had never teased Uhura about dating his first officer—she would’ve bitten his head off—but she and Scotty were a different story. The both of them had become so amicable and friendly that Jim had made it a point to look as grossed out as possible whenever the couple passed him in the hallway.

“It’s all part of the package deal,” he explained to Uhura after she’d rolled her eyes at him for the thousandth time.

“We’re not taking it so seriously,” she said to Jim after breakfast one day. “I mean, he’s one of my closest friends. But I dunno yet, and he doesn’t either. It’s so soon after Spock, you know?”

“Ugh,” Jim groaned. “You’re crushing my dreams, Lieutenant. All I want to do is officiate a wedding for once in my life.”

Uhura smacked his arm in mock disapproval. “Is that all I’m good for around here? Getting married?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Don’t think I couldn’t knock you right off that captain’s chair, sweetheart.”

Jim had no doubt she could. “Get married, don’t get married. As long as you’re my communications officer, I’m happy.”

“Scared I’m gonna kick your ass?” She asked, her eyes sparkling.

“What, you lookin’ for a fight?” Jim said, bouncing on the tips of his toes.

Uhura laughed. “Oh, hell no. I’m a busy woman with a tight schedule. Yesterday Chapel told me I needed another checkup, can you believe that?” She glanced at her watch. “In fact, I should be getting down there now. I’ll see you on the bridge.” She strode off.

Jim smiled. He figured he’d let Uhura find out about Chapel’s giant crush on her in her own time.

-

“Mr. Spock, I was looking for you!”

Spock, who was pacing relentlessly down the corridor as usual, stopped to allow Jim to catch up. Jim draped his arm around Spock’s shoulder, squishing Spock into a weird side hug.

Spock glanced at the offending arm, then back at Jim. “Yes, Captain?”

“Are you ready for shore leave?” Jim asked.

“I am adequately prepared.”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean? Like clothes other than ’Fleet regulation? And not as in _I’m Vulcan and my idea of relaxation is meditation for three days straight_ kind of clothes?”

Spock tilted his head a fraction to the left, and his bangs went slightly asymmetrical. To his surprise, Jim noticed that whoever had cut Spock’s bangs hadn’t cut all of them at the same length. A few at the edge of Spock’s temples were slightly longer than the rest. Jim fought the urge to stare, but he felt a bubble of laughter forming in his chest. He was definitely not going to laugh. He was not going to laugh.

Spock, oblivious to Jim’s averted gaze, was talking. “I do possess “regular” leisure clothing suitable for the climate on Kora II. As for your comment on Vulcan meditation, it is not relaxation Vulcans seek; rather, it is a highly effective method of—”

“You’re such a nerd,” Jim interrupted, a fond smile on his face. He clapped Spock on the back, avoiding looking him in the eyes. “See you later!”

Spock inclined his head. “Captain.”

-

Later at his desk, up to his ears in paperwork—which he was pointedly ignoring, as usual—Jim’s thoughts strayed to his conversation with Spock.

He was doing it again—talking too much, weirding Spock out by violating Spock’s multilayered personal bubble, ignoring a conversation in favor of Spock’s facial features—his bangs, for crying out loud. Still, Jim was giving a medal to whoever’d gotten away with that.

But seriously, Jim needed to stop. Just because Spock had said they were friends didn’t mean it was okay for Jim to act so casual and human around him. Spock wasn’t Bones, after all. He wasn’t going to have drinks with Jim, he wasn’t going to put up with drunken shore leave Jim, and he certainly wasn’t going to put up with Jim talking his pointy ears off at some ungodly hour of the night.

Jim scrubbed his hands across his face. He imagined he must look more exhausted than usual. He’d missed lunch a few hours ago on account of his meeting with the captain of an Andorian trade ship. Then he’d headed straight for medbay to check on one of the junior lieutenants who’d contracted a disease on their latest away mission. Of course, no sooner had Jim stepped through medbay’s doors when Bones attacked him with no less than three hyposprays to the neck.

_“Ow! Seriously, Bones?”_

_“With your allergies, who knows what you’d contract in this hellhole?”_

Jim groaned at the memory. God only knew how many hypos he’d have to undergo before Bones would clear him for shore leave.

 _Bones_. That’s who he needed to talk to. If anyone was going to listen to Jim’s rambling, it was his CMO.

Jim tapped his comm. “Bones, are you busy?”

“What else am I, ever?”

“Okay, be there in a sec.”

“Dammit, Jim!”

-

“What do you want?” Bones asked. He was filling up a set of hyposprays, so Jim thought it best to keep a considerable distance.

“I just wanted to talk.”

“It’s never _just_ with you, kid.” Bones closed the box of hyposprays and shelved it. Jim breathed a sigh of relief and lifted himself onto the nearest examination table.

“Well, it’s about Spock.”

Bones sighed. “Of course it is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. What now? The hobgoblin got another stick up his ass?”

Jim shook his head. “I invited him on shore leave. At least I think I did.”

If Bones had been drinking, he would have choked. At least that’s what Jim got from the expression on Bones’ face.

“Purple doesn’t suit you,” Jim said.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Jim wiped his hands on his pants. “Well, uh, he’s my”—he glared at Bones—“ _our_ friend. What’s wrong with having Spock along?”

“What’s _wrong_ with having _Spock_ along?”

“That’s what I said.”

Jim followed Bones’ gaze across the room. With the exception of Chapel tending to one of Bones’ patients, they were alone.

Bones’ voice was lowered when he spoke. “Spock is the most insufferable, arrogant, annoying Vulcan I’ve ever met—and I’ve met more than one, don’t give me that look—and frankly, I’d rather have Keenser kiss me on the lips than spend a night with Spock.”

“Come on, Bones,” Jim whined. “Shore leave’s no fun without you. If you want, I can get you a whole room by yourself. We’ll go to the bar, pick up some girls, go swimming. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Bones sighed. “I’ll go, but on two conditions: first, that I don’t room with Spock. And second, that he won’t come to the bar with us.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Like Spock would ever step foot in a bar.”

Bones gave Jim a meaningful look.

“Jimmy, you know Spock would follow you anywhere.”


	3. Chapter 3

“You couldn’t have picked a worse spot,” Scotty said, his figure hunched underneath relentless torrents of rain.

Jim opened his palms, allowing rivulets of water to flow down his fingers and hands. The yellow clouds were heavy with water, but just as beautiful as Jim had imagined. Mountains rose gracefully in the distance and colorful plants coated the ground, emitting a strange, sweet scent that Sulu would love.

“Well, we’re not in the city yet,” Jim said. He wheeled around to look at the lights in the distance.

“And we couldn’t have beamed any closer than this?”

“The city’s regulations won’t allow us, you know that. This was the closest we could come in.” Jim pushed past Scotty and onto a badly paved road that led to the city. When he realized Scotty wasn’t following him, he turned and yelled, “Cheer up, Scotty! It’s only a few miles!”

Scotty sloshed his way towards Jim, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you talked us into this."

Scotty had cheered considerably by the time he and Jim arrived at the hotel bar. Jim was nursing a cup of Terran hot chocolate, and Scotty was downing something disgusting from his flask.

“Come on, Jimmy. I’d expect them to be a little late.”

Jim shrugged, momentarily captivated by the swirls in his drink. He wondered if the bar carried marshmallows.

“And I’m sure Spock is with them.”

Jim hated the way his chest felt hollow at the mere mention of Spock’s name.

“Oh, really?” He snapped. “For all I know, he’s still holed up in his lab, growing another batch of Miridian spores. It’s fine. Stupid idea anyway.”

Scotty shook his head. “He’ll be here, I promise you that.” He gulped down more of his drink.

“What is that?” Jim asked, nodding at the flask.

“I honestly have no idea. I suppose it’s some sort of native mix. Tastes a bit like Kentucky bourbon.”

Jim’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You found Bones’ stash?”

Scotty shot Jim a look. “No, he let me have some. He has other friends, you know.”

“But—”

Scotty waved his hands. “Suffice it to say, we share a bathroom.”

Jim opened his mouth in indignation but was cut short when a sopping wet shirt landed in his lap.

“Ugh!” Jim threw the shirt back at the offending party, which happened to be Bones, who'd appeared thus far unnoticed at the entrance.

“Our bags better be in our rooms,” Bones growled, and Jim nodded. Luckily for the crew, the city allowed cleared luggage to be beamed directly into their respective rooms.

“Scotty?” Bones said, and Scotty, not unfamiliar with Bones’ angry moods, jumped about a foot in the air.

“The room’s 32B,” Scotty said, stuttering, and jerked his thumb in the direction of the elevator.

Just as Bones disappeared, Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov walked through the entrance. “Over here!” Jim called. Uhura turned to the sound of his voice, and in doing so smacked Chekov in the face with her dripping ponytail. Jim stifled a laugh. 

“Jim!” Uhura said.  “Interesting choice for shore leave. Pretty, though.”

Chekov was massaging his face. “Yes, it’s very rainy, sir,” he said.

Jim told them where to find their rooms, and Sulu and Chekov immediately ran off.

“You and Chapel are sharing,” Jim said to Uhura, scrolling through a list of his officer’s names. “Where is she, by the way?” Spock, too, he added silently.

“I think she wanted to finish up with one of her patients.”

Jim nodded. There was an uncomfortable bout of silence.

“I think Spock’s with her. I’m sure he’ll show up.” Uhura leaned her hip against Jim’s chair, and her tone changed to conspiratorial. “Is that what you wanted to ask me? You worried about him or something?”

Jim shifted in his seat. That feeling was back again, the hollow yet heavy weight in his chest. What was it with Spock and his stupid science experiments? Had Jim made him angry in inviting him? Or did he despise Jim so much that he would rather look at alien spores? Maybe he just liked science more than Jim. Which was fine, of course. Spock was a science officer. Spores were practically in his job description. 

“He’s never come to shore leave,” Jim said finally. “You know, if we ever invited him, he didn’t show.”

 “You do realize we’ve only had two shore leaves,” Scotty chimed in.

 “Yeah, and I’ve come back either hungover or unconscious,” Jim said. He took a sip of his hot chocolate, which had cooled significantly. 

 Scotty grimaced. “Actually, I’d say both times - ”

 “Point is,” Jim stressed, “I don’t see any reason why he should show up, okay?”

 Uhura, sensing the end of a conversation, said to Scotty, “Why don’t you walk me to my room?”

 Scotty brightened at this, and the pair swiftly departed into the upper recesses of the hotel. Jim sunk further into his chair. As he finished off the dregs of his hot chocolate, he peered through the clear walls, eyes straining to catch a glimpse of blue - Jim figured Spock would be pretentious enough to still be in his uniform.

About half an hour later, Jim directed Chapel to her room. There was still no sign of Spock.

 Scotty brightened at this, and the pair swiftly departed into the upper recesses of the hotel. Jim, meanwhile, sunk further into his chair. As he finished off the dregs of his hot chocolate, he peered through the clear-glass walls, eyes straining to catch a glimpse of blue. Jim figured Spock would be pretentious enough to still be in his uniform.

After Chapel showed up, sans Spock, Jim went to sit at one of the restaurant bars. He ordered a weird but safe-looking version of Terran pasta. He declined several offers for alcohol, of which he was proud of. At least he could count on himself not getting drunk on this trip.

The lobby was almost empty except for a few haggard-looking travelers looking for a room, and Jim felt his mind wander to his first officer. Spock liked to remind Jim that Vulcans never lie (or, alternatively, “Vulcans do not _kid_ ” or “Vulcans do not _bullshit_ ”), but that didn’t mean they _couldn’t_. But Spock wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t lie to his superiors. 

 If he wasn’t lying, where was he? A sick feeling twisted in Jim’s stomach.  If Spock hadn’t lied, and he wasn’t here, then he was hurt.

 Jim swallowed the bile climbing in his throat. He reached instinctively for his comm badge, only to find it wasn’t there. The reassuring weight of the metal on his chest now seemed glaringly obvious.

 He was halfway to Bones’ room when a million other, better ideas hit him. The main one being to take a deep breath and calm down, maybe.

 “Bones?” Jim called, slamming the door with his palm. Spock was fine, Spock would be okay, the sooner he was found -

“What the hell?”

“I think Spock’s hurt!”

Bones placed a hand on Jim’s chest. “Christ, Jimmy. You're gonna wake up the whole place. Besides, he’s already here.” He glanced Jim up and down. “Did you run all the way up here?”

“Where is he?” Jim demanded, looking past Bones’ shoulder, as if Spock would be caught dead in Bones’ room.

“In his room. I thought he told you he arrived.”

“What the fuck? From where?”

Bones jabbed his thumb to the west wing of the hotel. “Different entrance. He commed me when he arrived.” Bones groaned. “You left your comm on the ship, didn’t you?”

“It’s shore leave!”

“You’re the goddamn captain!”

“Nevermind, nevermind. I know where his room is. Thanks, Bones.”

Jim took off across the corridor. He imagined the other guests must be pissed at all his running.

Spock’s door opened just as Jim was about to knock, meaning Jim almost punched his first officer in the face. He would've been okay with that, he was so relieved. 

Spock’s face was infuriatingly emotionless. Jim wanted to cry, but he composed himself and tried not to look like he’d sprinted up a six flights of stairs.

“Spock, I almost threw up because of _you_. Why didn’t you _tell me_?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finals are over, baby!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Bear with me, guys. This is my first fic! Updates every 2-3 weeks.


End file.
